


Gravity

by Army C (arh581958)



Series: #GallavichWeek [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha!Ian, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Future, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Children, Day 7 - Reunions, EMT!Ian, Future Fic, GW2016, M/M, Mpreg, Omega!Mickey, Post-Canon Fix-It, Season 6 Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:18:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Army%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey was pregnant when he went to prison. Nobody knew about it, not even him. He went through with the pregnancy anyway because, by no small miracle, a life grew inside him--a life he made with Ian. </p><p>Three years later, and all the EMT training in the world couldn't have prepared Ian for <i>this</i>; a 911 call brought him straight to Mickey. It was finally time to do something right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Part 7 to my GallavichWeek2016 Series. Day 7 - Reunions. 
> 
> I've got this weird habit wherein I write ship-week prompts inversely from how they're supposed to be posted. This is actually the very first story I wrote for Gallavich week, and the rest jumbled out randomly. In this story, I'm thinking that Svetlana never happened (or maybe I'll make up some other explanation in the future). 
> 
> **Warnings:** This story contains _MPREG_ in the A/B/O universe. If you are uncomfortable with the theme, I respectfully suggest that you turn back now because this will sear through your eyeballs and melt your brain into mush. It's not everyone's cup of tea. If it ain't yours, you can press the back button.
> 
> **Not Beta Read. Open for Volunteers.**

Mickey screamed in the dead of night. He fought hard against the restraints holding him down. Legs pulled at the leather straps. Blunt nails clawed the faded wooden. Sweat beaded down his entire frame—on his forehead, over his torso, and under his knees—just everywhere.

His voice grew hoarse as he kept calling out a single name.

People in white surrounded him with pitying eyes.

 “On my count. One… two… three… push!”

His screams echoed through the eerily silent corridor.

“We’ve got a screamer!”

“So this is what it takes to get Milkovich to scream?”

“I bet the alpha who bred him liked that.”

“Will you three be quiet? If you can’t be professional, you can get out of my OR!”

Three of the white-clad figures straightened up.

Mickey hardly cared what these people said to him. The pain was the only thing he could focus on. It felt like he was being torn apart, split in two, inside falling out. Tears welled up in his eyes, falling only when he squeezed his eyes shut on the next contraction.

“Just a little more, Milkovich, just a little more and you’ll see her.”

 _Her_ , the doctor said, _her_ because _she_ was coming.

Mickey took another deep breath, and braced himself—legs on the stirrups and white knuckles on the armrest. She will come even if it expended the rest of his strength, even if it was the last thing he did—the only good thing he ever did. He will make sure of it.

“Are you still with me, Milkovich?”

He nodded faintly.

The doctor counted down again. On one, Mickey pushed with all his might using the same inner muscles which pulled seed from _his_ cock to push the little miracle that they created into the big bad world. If he made it out here tonight, he promised to do his very best to make that all better.

His loudest scream rattled even the birds outside.

Then came the shrill of a baby’s cries.

“Congratulations, Milkovich, it’s a girl.”

Mickey squinted, unable to fully open his eyes. He saw a blurs of whites, greys, and reds. Something was being placed in front of him—a tiny, delicate, little _person_. He wanted to cry. Hell, maybe he was already crying and he didn’t care.

She made it.

***

Three years, Ian’s been an EMT and he the adrenaline still pumps in his veins at every call. He’s faced a lot of things in that short span of time—from fag bashings to bar fights, domestic violence cases to victims of serial rapists, a minor mishap at home to a city-wide earthquake drill—but nothing prepares him for _this_.

The call came in at approximately 9-ish in the evening, and he was just about to get off his shirt. Nostalgia caused him to insist since it came from a familiar part of the neighborhood. Looking back, he didn’t know whether or not he _would have gone_ if he knew what waited for him at the scene.

In a less than pleasant part of town, in a less rundown apartment building, inside a fifth-floor flat with the door kicked open, Mickey Milkovich sat in a puddle of water, leaning against the sink, hand pressing against a low stab-wound to his side.

Across him, an unconscious Terry Milkovich lay face-down on the floor with his cheek on a small pool of his own blood with a deep gash on his forehead.

Mickey’s eyes widened when he saw Ian, but then he grimaced and threw his head onto the splinted wooden cabinet doors. “Took you guys long enough. I am literally dying here.”

“Is he…?” Forgetting his training to check-first ask-later, Ian momentarily stood frozen by the door, unable to comprehend any of it; why Mickey Milkovich, who he hasn’t seen since the omega went to prison, was out and barely alive on the living room floor of an unknown apartment.

Mickey laughed, throatily and pained. “Naah, man, not going back in the slammer again. Don’t worry. I made sure not to hit too hard. He’s still breathing.” He tried shifting more weight onto his uninjured side but ended up jostling his wound. “So, uh, you gonna do what you’re supposed to and help me… or do I have to wait for one of your buddies ‘cause it’s too awkward for you?”

Ian shook his head. The reality of the situation came crashing down on him. He was on the clock, on the job. This was his job. His job needed to make sure that Mickey Milkovich didn’t die tonight under his watch, or anyone else’s watch—not that he would let that happen.

Training kicked in. He focused. Everything else faded into a dull blur into the background. His teammates came in and hauled Terry out via a stretcher. Mickey flinched when Ian cut through his shirt to get to the stab wound and apply first aid. Too much blood. It never bothered him before but it did now because it was _Mickey’s_ blood staining his fingers.

“God, you reek of alpha,” Mickey muttered under his breath, “Don’t you guys have an _all-genders-are-welcome_ type of policy or something?”

“Anyone else in the house?” One of his teammates, a beta, asked Mickey.

Mickey bit the corner of his lower lip for half a second before answering no.

“Alright. Gallagher, is he stable or are you prepping him for transport? We’re taking the other one to the hospital in fifteen.”

Ian shook his head. “No, he’s stable. I think the police still want to question him too. I’ll stay here. You can, uhm, pick me up on your way back or I could commute. I don’t really mind the wait.” His teammate left without another word.

Mickey stared at Ian apprehensively but his eyes kept darting towards the only closed door.

The bleeding slowed down enough for Ian to start stitching. He did so quietly. The side of Mickey’s left was red and swollen by the time he finished stitching the wound. Next came the wrapping. He helped Mickey move away from the cabinets so that he had more space to work, wrapping bandages around the pale man’s torso, keeping it as professional as he could.

“So, ehrm, boyfriend?”

“What the fuck?” Mickey spat out with a glare, eyes completely trained on redhead now.

“I mean that’s the only thing that Terry would ever kill you for. Beat you up, sure, but wanting you dead… there’s not a lot of things that would make him do that… and the last time I saw that was back in Alibi when he went it. When did he even get out? Why isn’t he back at your house? Why aren’t _you_ back in your house? What’s this place anyway?”

Mickey moved away, forgoing subtlety. “Jesus, man, you do a wack patch job and now you think you’re entitled to twenty-questions? Hell no.”

“Mickey…”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” He ran his hands through his hair, unapologetically adding blood to what was already there, not caring. It was just like him. He avoided Ian’s gaze. “Look, man, I appreciate the patch up, I really do, so, uh, thanks… but can you get the hell out of my apartment now?” He waved vaguely at chaos. “I’ve got to clean up this mess.”

“I can help.”

The words were out of his mouth before Ian registered thinking them.

Mikey looked completely and utterly shocked—whether it be from the offer, or the person making the offer, Ian would never know. He immediately shook his head, _vehemently_ shook his head, while his eyes kept darting towards the door again.

“Ia— _Gallagher_ , don’t.” He stressed by pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me anything. This—this was just an unhappy accident, ayt? Us meeting? Just fate trying to pull one over our heads again. You don’t have to help me just because you know I’m a free man.”

“You got out?”

Mickey made a _well duh_ face.

Ian didn’t understand. “But how? Didn’t they give you fifteen to life? It’s only been four years!”

“Yeah, well,” Mickey sneered, “They let me out, ayt? Not like that none of your business. Get out of my flat, Gallagher, door’s wide open. Your buddies didn’t bother closing it.”

Ian tried to reason. He really didn’t. It didn’t take a genius that Mickey was hiding something—trying to run away. He knew that Mickey never ran, and when he did it was because he had something to protect. That something hid less than ten feet away from them. Ian’d be a hypocrite if he pushed any further so he packed his medkit and walked away.

It wasn’t until three streets down that he realized that something in the apartment smelled _familiar_ to him, and it wasn’t Mickey—it was him.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Gallavich ABO story because I feel that there isn't enough out there. So I figured, why not make an ABO of them meeting in the future after Mickey's given birth to their daughter? Ian's still an EMT and he's with Caleb. I haven't decided what Mickey does yet, for now. I have her name! She has a name! But I'm keeping it a secret for now (cause I actually have two potential names). Also, if you're wondering, Mickey gives birth to her in the prison hospital. They haven't mated. Ian didn't know that Mickey was pregnant when Mickey went to prison, neither did Mickey. Argh. This needs so much more backstory which I hope will eventually be revealed, if and when I post the next chapters. 
> 
> So, that's it, this is it. Thank you so much for this wonderful week of Gallavich. I hope that you enjoyed the stories I've shared this week. It's been a load of fun writing and reading the new material. Please do give me feedback. I'm a new writer to this fandom and I appreciate anything that could help me improve my writing. 
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)~
> 
> As always, **kudos/comments/bookmarks** are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I _do_ read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).


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